


Flora

by storytellerontheside



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Dark Side, Deceit being his dramatic Disney villain-esque self, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Giant Spiders, Imagination, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Pre-Episode: Accepting Anxiety, briefly, but that isn't going to stop Morality adopting him, no really it's set in the imagination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:08:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23385748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerontheside/pseuds/storytellerontheside
Summary: Patton's about to learn first hand that Roman has good reason to bar the Light sides from entering the Imagination. When an innocent exploration goes awry, he finds himself accepting help from the most unlikely of sources.Maybe some of the Dark sides aren't so bad after all.(Or, why Patton and Virgil have always gotten on so well)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 28
Kudos: 235





	Flora

**Author's Note:**

> I found this half finished in my notes and, as I have little else to do in quarantine, I decided to tidy it up and finish it.  
> In case it wasn't clear, this is set some time before the Sanders Sides series begins. As for Thomas' exact age (and by extention, the sides), I've left it ambiguous.

The Imagination could sense the emotions rolling off of Patton in waves. It hummed with his excitement and bristled with his anticipation. The threat of being caught hung heavy over the landscape as he took his first, tentative steps into the vast expanse of the mindscape that he'd so long considered to be Roman's domain.

He didn't know quite what he'd been expecting, but the abstract swirling mass of colour didn't look anything like what Roman described when he recounted his adventures. Maybe next time he'd consult Logic before he went off exploring, not that he'd really _planned_ to wander into Roman's realm.

The landscape didn’t appear to change beyond the vague shift in the swirl of colour that twisted in the air like smoke over a bonfire. Patton cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, half-hoping to catch a glimpse of Thomas' living room through the bubblegum-coloured haze but found no sign of the edge of the Mindscape. No sign of _anything_.

_How long have I been walking now?_ Patton was dreadful with time-keeping. Normally Logan brought him back to his senses when he lost himself in his thoughts. He'd been so sure he'd be able to find the way on his own. After all, he'd seen Roman disappear down the path often enough. Even Logan vanished down the trail from time to time when Roman locked himself away in his room to brainstorm, always returning with notepads filled to the brim with sketches and scribbles.

_"But...isn't it dangerous?”_

_"Not at all, so long as you are sufficiently cautious." Logan held his glasses in place to keep them from slipping down his nose as he crouched awkwardly to file the notebooks away where even Roman was unlikely to snoop. "Provided you don't stray from the path, the Imagination can be rather pleasant."_

"Follow the yellow brick road," Patton said under his breath, and as if response, the scene began to change.

His first warning came in the form of bird song, cutting through the oppressive silence and bringing with it sounds of life. A great many subtle changes occurred in the span of only a few seconds. The intangible path, little more than a blurred impression in an otherwise opaque floor, solidified beneath his feet. Between one step and the next, his smothered footsteps sharpened as his shoes hit stone. In the time it took him to blink, the vague hues shifted and blended until the incoherent mist began to take form.

He saw the trees first. Rising up out of nothing, towering and imposing enough to make him halt in his path before the rest of the colours bled through and cast the leaves in the light of the setting sun. It softened the painfully vivid hues, easing the rigid textures into something a little easier on the eyes.

Patton watched in awe as the scene came together piece by piece, like layers of paint on a canvas. He recognised a great many of the flowers and shrubs that blossomed before his eyes, though he couldn’t name them all as he knew Logan would be able to.

“I guess he wasn’t kidding when he said this place could be convincing,” he joked to himself as he looked back to the ground beneath his feet. The tarnished stone bricks had seen better days, chipped and worn as if through years of use though the path had been little more than a greyish blur only seconds ago. Despite the wear and tear, the colour looked no less vibrant.

“A…yellow brick road?” he murmured. Could it really be that simple?

He looked up again at the vivid scene, brimming with possibilities. The promise of a whole world just waiting to be explored coaxed him forward, but his responsibilities held him back. Roman would return eventually, and what would he say if he found Patton wandering his domain?

On that occasion, Patton found himself retreating back through the Gates and into the safety of his own domain…But it didn’t stop him from returning.

The next time he saw the opportunity and slipped through the Gates, the path solidified in an instant and he picked up where he left off.

_Follow the yellow brick road_.

The scene continued to evolve with every visit, though subtly at first. Through the dense grass he spied snow white daisies and vibrant dandelions, then flowering daffodils and delicate snowdrops. Every turn in the road revealed a new surprise, until he found himself surrounded on all sides by creeping flora. He breathed in deep, savouring the thick aroma of rose and lavender. Among the ordinary oak and pine, he caught glimpses of trees with solid silver leaves and lilac foxgloves that made a sound like wind chimes when the breeze hit them.

On one occasion, when Roman found himself particularly deep in a brain storming session, Patton allowed himself to venture a little further down the path and came across a bush swarming with butterflies of every size and shade. Large ones with solid blue wings the same shade as the sky, small ones with vibrant orange wings painted in black swirls. Red ones with black spots like eyes that winked when they fluttered their wings, green ones that almost seemed to disappear when they landed among the leaves. It dawned on him that he’d never seen another living thing in the Imagination before, and for the first time, he found himself pondering the distant birdsong that carried through the trees. In an instant, as if they’d been summoned into existence by his very thoughts (and for all he knew about the Imagination, it may well have been the case), there were birds flitting back and forth above his head.

The forest erupted in a flurry of movement. Squirrels descended from the highest branches, rabbits emerged from burrows nestled between the roots of the great trees, and Patton lost himself in it all.

He half skipped down the path, whistling the tune to every song he could remember from the Wizard of Oz soundtrack as he went. The leaves wilted and browned as he travelled farther down the path, a detail he found concerning until he saw a few drifting down to rest by the side of the road. The longer he walked, the clearer it became that autumn was replacing the summer scene, a fact made all the stranger when he turned back to look over his shoulder and saw the distant trees still as vibrant and green as he’d left them.

He plucked an apple from the branches of a low hanging tree which gave off the impression of being hunched over the path. Getting your five a day is essential, after all. Even if Patton _was_ only “an imagined representation of one singular component of an individual’s personality”, as Logan put it.

The apple tasted sweet and sugary and made Patton nostalgic for the caramel apples their neighbour used to hand out at Halloween. Thankfully, despite the Wizard of Oz influences, the tree didn’t come alive to pelt Patton with apples.

Once again, he lost track of time following the bends and curves of the winding path, admiring the wildlife that surrounded him everywhere he went. A half dozen times he caught sight of deer through the trees, though they offered him little more than a passing glance when he squealed at the sight of them. Despite his best efforts, he was yet to succeed in coaxing any of the animals into joining him on the path. A pair of foxes grew curious enough to walk alongside him for a time, even allowing him to reach out and scratch them behind the ears, but never once touching the stone edging of the road. Come to think of it, even the fallen leaves piling high on either side of him didn’t dare encroach upon it.

He’d have to ask Logan about that when he got back.

“Morality!”

Patton jumped in surprise, stumbling on an uneven stone as panic kicked in because Roman was going to be _maaaaaaad_. His foot hit the division of the road, but someone caught him before he could land in the mountain of dry autumn leaves on the other side of it.

“Gosh, I better watch where I’m going more,” Patton said, trying not to cringe as Roman helped him find his footing again.

_No talking my way out of this one._

“Uh, whatcha doing here, kiddo? Last I heard you were holed up in your room working on Thomas’ art project.”

“Oh, I finished all that,” he said with a dismissive wave. “If I may say so, you should be wary out here, Patton. It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re gallivanting around in an enchanted forest.”

Patton’s eyes went wide. Had he _really_ been here that long? “In that case, maybe I should turn back…”

To his relief, Roman responded with his patented (heh, _Patton_ -ted) charming smile. Creativity had always been so adamant about them respecting the boundary of the Imagination, but here he was looking almost as though he’d expected the intrusion. Maybe Logan should give him more credit.

“Back? Oh no, no. My dear Morality, you can’t simply _leave_ the way you entered.”

“I…I can’t?”

“You’re much too deep in the Imagination for that. You’ve been gone for _days_ , Patton.”

His lip trembled. In a small, timid voice he asked, “days?”

“And it will take you at _least_ that long to make it all the way back again. It really is a good thing I found you. Logan’s been ever so worried.”

“ _Logan_ was worried about me?”

“Of course, Thomas can’t function without you, Morality.”

Tears threatened to spill over his eyes. “I-I didn’t _mean_ to, I just-“

Had he really spent _days_ out here, chasing wild cats and picking low-hanging fruit from trees? Roman offered him a sympathetic, bordering on pitying look.

“It takes a strong will to traverse the Imagination, Morality. Perhaps next time you should ask for help before you go wandering off on your own.”

God, had he really been so naïve to think that he could follow in Roman and Logan’s footsteps so easily? Putting _Thomas_ at risk for…what? To satisfy his own curiosity?

“No need to fear, Patton,” Roman assured him. “There is another way.”

Hope blossomed in his chest. Of _course_ Roman would be able to save the day. “R-really?”

“It won’t be easy,” he warned, but Patton stood his ground.

“I can handle it.”

Roman offered his arm with a flourish. “In that case, allow me to lead the way.”

“You mean…we’re not following the road?”

Roman laughed. “I assure you, you’re quite safe with me as your guide.”

Patton looked back and forth between the extended arm and the road. Logan did state that he shouldn’t leave the path under _any circumstances_ …but surely that rule didn’t apply with Roman there, right?

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course!”

Shooting one last nervous glance over his shoulder, Patton locked arms with Roman and stepped over the stone divide. The leaves crackled and crunched beneath his feet, kicking up clouds of dust that tickled his nose and left behind the taste of cinnamon on his tongue.

Patton allowed the other side to lead, trusting him completely to guide them back to the safety of the mindscape while Morality stewed in his own guilt.

Meanwhile, in a room set apart from the Imagination, where Thomas’ innermost hopes and dreams resided, the real Roman let out an exaggerated sigh as he leaned back in his chair before reaching again for his pen.

xxx

“So, uh, how long does this short-cut take exactly, kiddo?” Patton asked as he tripped over yet another tree root. Already he missed the yellow brick road, even if it _had_ gotten him into this mess in the first place. Roman didn’t seem to notice his struggle, forcing Patton to jog to catch up with his long, unbroken strides.

“Not long at all, though I suppose I _could_ save us some time by travelling through the Valley of Terror instead of going around it if you’re really that impatient…?”

Patton gulped. “N-no, it’s okay.”

He couldn’t help but notice that the forest seemed less… _alive_ out here. The trees had shed their remaining leaves, leaving their gnarled and twisted branches on full display. Aside from the occasional distant squawk, he saw no sign of the wildlife that had once surrounded him.

Roman didn’t seem concerned, at least. Not even when the fallen leaves began to lose their once rich colour and crumble under their feet. Patton couldn’t help but cast nervous glances at the dark clouds creeping across the solid blue sky, spots of rain dotting his polo. He pulled his cardigan up over his head in the hopes it would offer him some cover, but stray raindrops still splattered across his glasses. Every so often he tried to wipe them off with his sleeve, but he didn’t dare stop to dry them properly out of fear he’d become separated from Roman.

The now sodden leaves and limited visibility didn’t help his cause, the trips and stumbles becoming more and more frequent. Once or twice Roman paused to let Patton catch up, but for the most part he settled for offering a cursory glance over his shoulder to ensure the slower side was still following.

Patton wrinkled his nose at the unpleasant squelch of mud beneath his once white loafers, but Roman didn’t comment, so neither did he. Come to think of it…that in of _itself_ struck him as a little out of character. For all the value Roman placed on appearance, he didn’t seem the least bit phased by the rainwater plastering his hair to his scalp, or the splattering of mud on his usually spotless clothes. He supposed Roman _did_ go on a great many adventures. For as fanciful as he made it sound, he must have to deal with dirt sometimes…right?

Another thought struck him and added to the steady sinking feeling in his gut. As hard as he tried to focus on the present, he couldn’t help but think back to an incident in the kitchen only a few weeks before. One that ended with Patton tripping face-first into a wall as he attempted to catch a spiral notepad Roman tossed his way (an incident which led to the implementation of Logan’s “no wearing socks without shoes in the kitchen and other as yet unspecified areas with tile flooring”). In trying to regain his balance, he’d bashed his chin on the kitchen cabinet on his way down and bitten his tongue.

Despite otherwise being uninjured, Roman insisted on carrying him to Logan’s room, with his justification being that “the nerd was bound to have a book on first-aid lying around somewhere in that fun-sucking blackhole he calls a library”.

No matter how he looked at it, Patton couldn’t reconcile the memory with the side walking ahead of him. The Roman he knew valued chivalry almost as highly as his singing voice. Sure, he traded verbal blows with the other sides, but that never stopped him from rushing to their aid at the first sign of a stumble…until today.

Maybe he’d been too quick to assume Roman had already forgiven him for his trespass.

Roman stopped dead without warning and Patton almost cried in relief. He couldn’t say how long they’d been walking now, but already he felt like he’d had enough hiking to last him a lifetime.

“Did you hear that?”

Patton paused, straining his ears to hear anything beyond the light patter of the receding rain. “No?”

“Shhhh.” Roman’s brow furrowed in concentration, eyes roaming the forest as if half expecting something to jump out at them. Patton waited for him to give them the all clear, hoping he’d be allowed to take a break before they continued. Instead, Roman signalled for him to stay back and took a cautious step forward.

“Uh, Roman?”

“Stay here,” he responded sharply.

“W-wait, you’re leaving?”

“There are a great many creatures that roam the Imagination, not all of them well-meaning. It is my responsibility to keep them in check.” He offered Patton a cold look. “And I can hardly vanquish the beasts of Thomas’ nightmares with you hanging off my sleeve.”

The bluntness of it took Patton’s breath away, eyes watering of their own accord. When he put it like _that_ , of course Roman was angry with him. Not only did Patton put Thomas at risk by neglecting his responsibilities, but he’d also put Roman in the position of having to _save_ him.

“Wait here, keep _quiet_.”

Patton watched until the trees enveloped Roman completely, wishing he could form the words to express his remorse around the lump in his throat.

“How did I screw up so bad?” he whispered. Aside from wallowing in the regret pouring off him in waves, the Imagination offered no reply. Patton shivered, whether from nerves or the cold he couldn’t say. With his cardigan sopping wet and the grey clouds rolling out across the sky, he supposed he’d have to get used to it.

There weren’t really many suitable places for Patton to sit, but the thought of moving made his heart seize. Already drenched and mud-splattered, he supposed sitting on the ground couldn’t make things much worse.

Out in the depths of the imagination, unarmed and completely oblivious, Patton waited.

And waited.

And waited.

(Roman didn’t come back).

xxx

Patton rocked on his heels and tried not to think about the darkening sky, or how long he’d been waiting, the possibility of Roman being injured, the creatures that might be lurking just out of sight and waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on him, ~~how he’d be helpless without Roman around-~~

Okay, so topics of contemplation were limited, but wishes? Those he could think up in abundance.

He wished for a clean change of clothes, for socks still warm from the dryer and the bunny slippers that didn’t go with his cat onesie at _all_ but damn it he’d wear them anyway. When he got back, he’d make hot chocolate. Gallons of it. Roman always said Patton made it best when he took the time to make it from scratch (the trick was to melt the chocolate over the stove before introducing the milk. Roman always got impatient when he tried to replicate it, but conjured mix just never tasted the same).

When he got back, he'd make it just the way the others liked it. He’d even use the big knife to dice the chocolate. They normally kept the wickedly sharp blade locked away in one of the rarely used drawers, but he’d tolerate it just this once to get the shavings fine enough. He’d heat the milk on the stove instead of taking the easy way out and using the microwave. That way he could get the temperature just right, never letting it get to boiling point else it could make the whole batch taste grainy.

The dead and dying trees groaned as the wind began to pick up. Patton shivered and hugged his knees, trying not to think about what noises the monsters in these woods must make. Roman would know…maybe Roman was fighting one right now. Maybe he’d been overwhelmed, surrounded on all sides and battling to his last breath while Patton just _sat there and-_

He’d use dark chocolate this time. Logan never admitted to having a preference, but he always drank more when the flavours were richer. Maybe he’d prefer it if Patton used less sugar in his…Could he make two batches? One for Roman, one for Logan.

Somewhere in the distance, something howled.

Yes, two batches. Logan liked things straight forward. Too many contrasting flavours put him off, so something simple, nothing too sweet. Cut the sugar, stick to basics…although, maybe he wouldn’t mind a dash of vanilla? Logan accepted it in his coffee last time he let Patton make it. Maybe if he let him try a bit first…

Something moved through the trees and hope blossomed in his chest, but the movements didn’t seem quite right for Roman. It moved too quick and close to the ground, almost invisible in the growing shadows. He squeezed his eyes tight shut and forced himself to take a deep breath. Just the darkness playing tricks on him. Any minute now, Roman would return and lead the way back home where Patton would make him the best darn hot chocolate he’d ever tasted.

_Mountains of whipped cream, piles of marshmallows, a dash of sugar to offset the bitterness. As far as Roman was concerned, the sweeter the better._

Patton’s bottom lip trembled as he heard a loud, unmistakable snap, but still he refused to open his eyes.

_Of course, he’d add a sprinkle of cinnamon over the top to complete the effect. Now he thought about it, maybe he should add some to the mix itself as well to bring out the flavour._

Even then he could feel eyes on his back. Hugging his legs to his chest and shaking at every little sound, Patton felt like a kid watching horror movies at a friend’s house.

_He’d mix the cinnamon in with the milk_ before _he added the chocolate. That way he could make sure every grain dissolved first. Heck, he could throw in a little almond too. Whatever Roman wanted, anything to make it up to him. Just please, God, let him go_ home.

The horror of _not knowing_ triumphed over the fear of finding out, and he opened his eyes just enough to squint through his rainspecked lenses. Something glittered in the trees, hanging in the air like lumps of black quartz. He squinted until his eyes adjusted to the dark again, brow furrowing as he picked out abstract shapes in the haze that offered little in the way of a complete picture. The sloping lines and jagged edges just didn’t seem to fit together, connecting at strange angles to frame the orbs suspended a good seven feet in the air.

The image didn’t add up until it lifted one of its enormous, angular legs and Patton’s insides turned to ice. He watched in insurmountable horror as the creature took a great step forward, effortlessly closing the distance between them. Its eight, gleaming eyes remained fixed on Patton, the impression of a head now framing them in the darkness.

_Move_ , a distant part of him screamed, but every muscle in his body locked in place. He was going to die here, alone in the depths of the imagination with no one to blame but himself for his own stupidity.

The spider made an audible click as it gnashed its ~~teeth?~~ ~~Jaws?~~ ~~Feelers?~~

_Logan would know what they’re called_. The thought flitted through his head, even as all of his other functions screeched to a halt.

Maybe it wouldn’t be the end. Maybe in death he’d reform in his room or-

A hand closed around his wrist and Patton jumped in surprise, locked muscles suddenly mobile again as a wave of relief crashed over his head because _Roman came back for him and-_

“ ** _Move_ , you idiot!**”

Patton didn’t have time to process that the voice decidedly did _not_ belong to Roman before he was hauled to his feet, and suddenly they were running.

The spider let out a shriek of fury as the newcomer snatched its prey out of its grasp, but Patton didn’t have the time to contemplate that either. The iron grip around his wrist dragged him forward, even as he stumbled and slipped on the muddy leaves. He caught the impression of a black blur leading him forward, leaping over tree roots and navigating through the trees with an ease Patton would have struggled to match in broad daylight.

Behind them, the thunderous footfall of eight heavy legs grew closer as the creature gave up any pretence of stealth. He could hear it ducking and weaving to avoid the trees, tearing through the low hanging branches that dared encroach on its path.

Patton let out a whimper when he caught a glimpse of it over his shoulder. Its soulless eyes locked onto his, desperate movements conveying its ravenous hunger where the blank expression failed.

The hand still locked around his wrist yanked him down without warning and he tumbled forward with a panicked yelp. For once the mud worked in his favour, likely saving the skin of his palms from the rough tumble. The gratitude didn’t last when he tried to scramble to his feet and lost his footing on the slippery earth. Something snagged his shirt and pulled him down again, a hand slapping over his mouth before he could scream.

“ ** _Calm down_** ,” a voice hissed, echoed and distorted almost beyond recognition but almost certainly belonging to his mystery rescuer. Patton’s glasses had flown off in the fall, but he could see enough to recognise that they were lying in a shallow ditch of some kind. His heart dropped when he saw the blurry outline of the spider crouched over them.

“ ** _She can’t see us. So long as we keep still, she’ll lose interest and go back to her nest._** ”

Patton blinked. Could that really be true?

Now he thought about it, he remembered Logan saying something about spiders having terrible eyesight when Thomas found one in the shower and panicked.

_“Even if its fangs were large enough to pierce your skin, I sincerely doubt its venom would have any effect on someone of your size, Thomas.”_

_“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?!”_

_“Now, now, kiddo. I’m sure Logan didn’t mean to insinuate-“_

Patton didn’t realise he'd been holding his breath until the outline of the spider receded and the panic subsided enough for him to register the burning in his lungs.

Sprawled out in the dirt, covered head to toe in mud, and shaking like a leaf from his close encounter with a monstrosity ripped straight from Thomas’ worst nightmares, Patton couldn’t imagine how he must have looked to the stranger. He squinted, trying to make out the face of the black-clad blur that had swooped in and saved him. Funny, _everything_ seemed blurry.

_My glasses_ , he remembered distantly as he let his head fall back to the ground.

Patton _really_ didn’t like the Imagination.

It took him a moment to realise the other side was counting. Shaking so violently he almost seemed to vibrate, he whispered the words like a prayer.

“ ** _5-6-7, out, 2-3-4-5-6-7-8, in, 2-3-4, hold, 2-_** “

“Are…Are you alright?”

The side shrank away, still little more than a dark blur to Patton between the darkness and his short-sightedness.

“ ** _You’re not supposed to be here. You’re not supposed to_ see me.**”

Patton blinked and squinted, but nothing he did brought the strange new side into focus.

“Well, uh, if it makes you feel any better, kiddo, I _can’t_ see you. Really am blind without my glasses.”

The side shifted but didn’t reply. That was okay, sometimes Logan didn’t like talking either. Realising he didn’t really have anywhere else to go, Morality gave up on trying to stand and collapsed back into the dirt.

“Boy, I’ve really made a mess of this one, haven’t I? I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble…I _really_ didn’t mean to wander out this far…I just wanted to explore, I guess it sounds silly now. I thought it would be safe so long as I stayed on the path…but it looks like I let myself get a little too carried away.”

The strange side shifted again, and this time when he spoke, his voice didn’t sound quite so distorted. “ _You’re a long way f_ _rom the Light side_.”

“Yeah…I guess I am. Creativity- Er, the Light half of him, I mean…He said he knew a shortcut back this way. He said I’d gone too far to go back the way I came, but if I followed him-“

“ ** _Roman_** _brought you here?_ ” the side asked sharply.

“You know Roman?”

“ _Unfortunately…but I find it hard to believe he would have left you_ here _all alone…_ ”

“He said he’d come back for me,” Patton defended. “He _promised_. No matter how mad he gets, Roman would _never_ break a promise.”

“ _I’m sure he wouldn’t, but the side you met out here_ wasn’t _Roman_.”

Patton’s blood turned to ice in his veins.

“ _The Imagination is neutral. It’s as much my brother’s domain as it is mine,” Roman snapped, though Logan didn’t shy away from his words._

_“Precisely. It is neutral ground._ Truly _neutral. Neither we nor the Dark sides are capable of gaining the upper hand there. That puts them at an equal disadvantage.”_

_“Oh for the love of Disney- Do you counter everything I say just to spite me?!”_

“You mean- You mean the side I followed here…It was actually Decei-”

A hand slapped over his mouth for the second time that night.

“ ** _Don’t say his name_** ,” the stranger all but snarled, looking around frantically as if expecting the serpent to appear at any moment. His breathing which had begun to even out grew erratic again as he searched for any sign of movement.

Instead of attempting to extricate himself from the side’s crushing hold, Morality patted the hand still clamped over his mouth in what he hoped would be perceived as a reassuring gesture. Slowly but surely, the shaking stopped.

“ ** _Sorry, I just-_** “ the side took in a deep shuddering breath. “ ** _If he comes back and finds out I helped you_ _…_** _ **We need to get you back to the Light.** ”_

Patton’s reply came out muffled beneath his hand, and the side sprang away from him as if he’d been burned.

“Whoa there, didn’t mean to startle you, but I had to ask…Does this mean you’ll help me get home?” He couldn’t help but get his hopes up at the prospect of getting _out_ of this nightmare.

The side didn’t reply at first, and more than ever Patton wished he could _see_ to gauge his expression.

“ _Wait here._ ”

Without making a sound, the side vanished. He slipped away through the trees as less than a shadow, his absence bringing about a surge of panic. It took all of Patton’s self-restraint not to cry out for him to _wait_ because ~~Roman~~ Deceit already left him once before, and somehow he doubted the odds of yet another saviour rushing to his aid.

Except…a moment later, something solid dropped into his open palm, and even in the darkness he could make out the outline of-

“My glasses,” he breathed.

“ _You need them to see, right?_ ” The side fidgeted as Patton put them on, grateful even if they made little difference in the darkness. “ _I can’t take you all the way, but I can bring you as far as the path_.”

“You’d do that?”

Instead of replying, the side took his hand and helped him to his feet. Despite his slight frame, he lifted Morality’s weight easily.

“ _You’re lucky. The others can’t see in the dark, either_.”

And with that, the stranger led the way.

Despite his prior displays of strength, his fingers were hesitant to encircle Morality’s wrist, as if afraid it might splinter under the slightest pressure. The contrast threw Patton off-balance for a beat, but he appreciated the gesture all the same. He still couldn’t help but feel nervous as he blindly followed in the near pitch black, jumping out of his skin at every creak and flutter. After a while, the stranger began to mutter reassurances under his breath.

“ _The rotting trees make that noise when the breeze picks up. The branches never fall out here.”_

“ _It’s a bird. There aren’t many in this part of the imagination, mostly crows and vultures. They won’t bother us if we don’t bother them_.”

“ _We’re well beyond the spiders’ territory now. There’s nothing else in the Imagination that would venture this close to the Light…Well, except for the Duke, but he only makes the effort when his brother’s nearby._ ”

“You seem to know the Imagination pretty well,” Patton remarked, half expecting the strange side to shush him.

Instead, he replied, “ _this is where I do some of my best work._ ”

They took each step painstakingly slow so Patton wouldn’t trip on the uneven ground and gnarled roots breaking through the surface of the soil, and even then, the stranger had to reach out to keep him from falling on more than one occasion.

They walked for what could have been minutes or days. The Imagination had a way of bending time to serve its needs. Whether that be in favour of its inhabitants or not remained a coin toss. He waited for the new side to grow impatient with his slow pace and constant stumbles. The forest fed hungrily on his every insecurity, but the side never showed any sign of impatience or fatigue. He walked ahead, and step by careful step, Patton followed close behind.

The oppressive darkness began to lessen as they grew closer to the path, and bit by bit the creeping anxieties and lingering doubts dropped away.

The stranger’s grip tightened on his wrist, pulling them both to a halt. Patton looked around in confusion before he found what had caught the other side’s eye: a flicker of light through the trees.

“I don’t think they’re dangerous, kiddo,” he whispered as more specs of light joined the first. Even half-hidden in shadow, Patton could see the wariness in his stance.

With their proximity to the Light inspiring a new wave of confidence, Patton reversed their hold to tug at the stranger’s wrist, coaxing him away from a world of spiderwebs and rotting trees and into one of rich autumn colours. The scene came alive as if bathed in firelight and reminded Patton of nights spent around campfires. It smelled of pumpkin and cinnamon and the candles Thomas liked to burn in the autumn months, and at once the last dregs of the Dark sides’ influence drained away.

“ _Do they bite?_ ” the side asked suspiciously, and despite himself, Patton laughed.

“Not at all, silly. Don’t you remember when Thomas used to catch fireflies as a kid?” A thought occurred to Patton almost as soon as the words left his mouth, and he found himself faltering. Had he even been around that long? Dark sides and functions seemed to form and vanish with the waxing moon these days.

Patton couldn’t help but hope this one would stick around.

The side in question froze in place as one of the countless insects flickering in the air landed on the bridge of his nose. He scarcely seemed to even breathe as he waited for it to move, to do _something_. After a moment, the firefly began to luminesce.

It was then that he caught his first real glimpse of the side’s face. As Patton suspected, he didn’t wear glasses like him and Logan. No facial hair like the Duke, no scales like Deceit. Only the dark semi-circles under his eyes and the fringe pushed forward over his face set him apart from Thomas himself.

The insect took flight, and the moment passed. Once again the side was cast in shadows too dark to match the surrounding scenery.

“... _Come on,”_ he said with a shake of his head, though he tilted his head back to watch the insects congregate in the air. “ _The sooner you’re back on the road, the better_.”

From there, the journey went more smoothly. The ground evened out and the gnarled roots grew few and far between. No more thorny shrubs trying to ensnare Patton’s clothing as he passed, and the grass no longer scraped at his exposed skin.

Of course, the transition wasn’t all pleasant for both of them. The strange side who’d once lead the way with all the confidence and grace of an oversized cat grew twitchy as the dawn broke over the treetops. Their roles reversed, as now he was the one to jump at every sound, so clearly unused to walking out in the open in the daylight.

Everything about the Dark side of the Imagination seemed to lend itself to the stranger, but here in the Light the leaves crunched loudly beneath his feet and the bushes of heather never failed to make him sneeze when they passed too close. If Morality didn’t feel so bad about driving him out of his comfort zone, he might have found the scene amusing.

The sky continued to lighten as they walked, slow at first as colour splashed across the sky. By the time Patton caught sight of the road through the trees, it had progressed into a full blown sunrise.

“A yellow brick road,” the side remarked, still sounding a little hoarse, but having otherwise shaken the echoes distorting his voice. “I suppose I should be glad we didn’t run into any lions.”

“I’d rather lions to spiders,” Patton replied with a shudder. He hopped over the stone divide of the path, the other side slipping out of his grasp rather than moving to follow him.

“I, uh…I can’t cross,” he explained. Somehow in the light of the morning, he seemed more awkward than imposing. In need of a few decent meals, perhaps, and all but swimming in an oversized hoodie. He slouched low, ducking his head as if to hide behind his heavy fringe. It was hard to imagine him wandering the darkest corners of the mindscape all alone.

Then again, it was unfair to judge based on appearances. Especially when the side had undoubtedly saved his life.

“I’m Morality,” he blurted out before the side could turn away. “But you can call me Patton!”

The side hesitated before flashing teeth that, on first glance, looked a little too sharp.

“ ** _Paranoia_**.”

Morality extended a hand over the stone divide, and the Dark side stared as if he’d lost his mind.

“It’s nice to meet you properly, Paranoia. I really owe you one for saving me back there.”

Paranoia stared at Patton’s hand, then up at the Light side’s face before his gaze dropped once again to the outstretched hand. In the end, he accepted the gesture with all the wariness you might expect from a side defined by caution, and who’s only experience with handshakes came from Deceit.

(No one in the Mindscape would dare to accept a handshake from Remus; not unless they were willing to lose the limb.)

“You should go. Before Creativity comes looking for you.”

Morality didn’t ask which half he meant.

“Don’t be a stranger, kiddo!” Patton called as he offered one last wave. Paranoia hesitated only a moment before waving back. It felt wrong to turn his back on the side that had risked so much to guide him back to safety, but when he glanced back over his shoulder, he saw only trees.

Patton set off back down the path, debating whether he should cook Roman pasta or bake brownies before inevitably deciding on both, all the while unaware of the side still watching his every step.

While stealth didn’t come so easily in the Light, Virgil still managed to slink between the trees unnoticed as Patton muttered about chocolate ratios under his breath. He followed the side all the way to the Gates, even though the smell of the flowers in summer made him want to gag and the spring set off a hay fever allergy he never knew he had.

Still, even as he gasped for air and strained to keep Patton in sight with the harsh glare of the rising sun blinding him, Virgil couldn’t help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hope at least some of you enjoyed this weird little fic I can only half-remember writing. If anybody is actually interested in reading more of...whatever this was, let me know and I might write a followup chapter.
> 
> Here's hoping you're all surviving quarantine.


End file.
